“There is a path down to the water,” said the chief. “Let us wait. If the Stone Men are down there, the path must be closed.” The three remained silent. They heard nothing more for a long space. The dark star-glinting lake, where all the constellations of the sky were mirrored in placid glory, gave up no further sound--until, abruptly, a musket crashed out from the shore below. Two made answer from the water, with ruddy flashes, and then pealed up a sharp chorus of yells. Again silence ensued, until Standing Bull spoke up. “The Stone Men are on the lake in canoes. Fear not, my young men will close this cliff trail----” A rumbling crash of rock, a yell, and then a triumphant Dacotah whoop came close on his words to show their truth. Again silence. Crawford waited, with hope tugging at him. If Black Kettle had arrived, Perrot and the Dacotah warriors under Yellow Sky must have come up! The Star Woman and most of her men were hastily gathering to the scene, when the three Dacotah came climbing to the cliff-verge again, and with them two weary, wounded men. One was the Mohegan, Black Kettle; the other was a sub-chief from the southern villages of the Dacotah. These came to the Star Woman and made report, while all around hung on their words. “Yellow Sky and a hundred Issanti warriors are on the trail. They have Metaminens with them. He sent Black Kettle and Wounded Crane on ahead. Fifty others of The Men have gone around by the eastward of the lake, to cut off the Assiniboine retreat. It is the word of Metaminens that Red Bull be detained for two days. Before the second sun has set, Metaminens will be here.” Crawford caught a significant grunt from Frontin, and gave up hope. Two days would see a different end to this story! The Star Woman sent the new arrivals away with the other braves, and came to the two white men. “You heard?” she exclaimed, a thrill in her voice. “Tell me, what is in the mind of Metaminens? What does he mean to do?” “Save you from Maclish,” said Crawford, “make peace with the Stone Men, and win them over to the French cause. How he can do that, remains to be seen.” “You do not know Metaminens, if you doubt him!” was her flashing answer. “So he needs two days? Then we must stop all fighting until he arrives.” “But Maclish must not know that he is coming,” said Crawford, unwilling to dispel her confidence. She laughed softly and was gone in the darkness. Frontin uttered a low laugh. “She wants peace, Perrot wants peace, Maclish wants peace--what beautiful irony! All three lose. She is too proud to pay the price of peace, Perrot will be too late to save us, and--who, then, will win the game?” “Who, then?” demanded Crawford. “Death,” said Frontin gloomily. “We are the only ones to win, you and I! We win what we came here to seek. Meantime, go back to sleep, for to-morrow we work.” Crawford obeyed.